Listen to the Music
by gudbooks
Summary: A piece of emotional and inspirational music is playing - Ginny Weasley listens and she.... you'll find out if you read this. Not exactly sweet, but i don't think it needs to be rated T. Enjoy!


Hey guys

**Hey guys. This is just a one-shot about a piece of inspirational music (courtesy of a long beach holiday!!). I didn't have a piece in mind when writing this, but some of my favourites are:**

"**Fix You" by Coldplay**

"**The Scientist" by Coldplay**

"**Proud" by Heather Small**

"**Jupiter" from "The Planets Suite"**

**The first two make me feel as if a sad story or film is playing in my head; the last two make me feel suddenly proud of something (don't ask me what!).**

**Anyway, this fic is about a piece of music a bit like those, which a certain character is listening to…**

**Listen to the Music**

Swelling and billowing, the music enveloped Ginny. She closed her eyes as she felt it sweep her away.

The melody told of pain and despair – torturously slow and each note causing the listener to fill with sadness and feel their eyes burn with unfallen tears, before moving on to the next. This was the first time Ginny had been so moved by a piece of music. How could just black dots and lines on a piece of paper conjure such images in her head, such emotions in her heart?

For, as the piece progressed, Ginny interpreted the music as many individual stories bound together by on element common to all – the war. Her imagination and memories combined to tell her these stories.

The slow, tentative beginning made her think of the fear and worry when Voldemort was announced to be back; how scared and confused she had been. Scared because she'd heard about how terrible the last war had been, seen her mum and dad blanch when she'd asked them what they'd seen happen. And confused, because others around her were muttering that it wasn't true and that Harry and Dumbledore were lying…but she knew Harry better than them and he wouldn't _lie_ about something like that. Would he?

As the piece came to a crescendo, she remembered the anger at the prejudice and discrimination against Muggles and Muggle-borns. The terror that someone she loved would be the next to disappear, the next to die.

As each note of the melody reached her ears, accompanied by a soft moving harmony, waves of great mourning swept over her. Her brother had _died_ in this war, along with so many others. She imagined mothers waiting fruitlessly for their children to return; wives listening for the sound of the door, hoping against hope they'd see their husband walk through; children asking why their parents weren't coming back.

People she'd known were gone – friends or not-so-friendly regardless, she missed them, ached at their loss and knew others would mourn them too. People like Lupin and Tonks, their poor Teddy an orphan. People like…like Fred, leaving his family stunned and always conscious of his absence…

She gasped as the sadness turned to a nearly physical pain and began to sob, curled up in her bed, the music still playing. How could the world go on as normal after these bereavements? How could anything be the same again?

But as the piece continued to play, it changed slightly and made Ginny feel, in spite of herself, more hopeful.

Hopeful that people would remember the war as a terrible time, yes, but also as a reminder that love would always be stronger – that people could _always_ prevent evil of Voldemort's type by love…

The piece ended and seventeen-year-old Ginny Weasley sat up and turned off the wireless, making sure to make a mental note of the name of the piece before she did so, memories still whirling in her mind…

_Many years later_

"But Mum, you only told us the facts – the dates and what happened and stuff. Surely all of that must have been really sad? Why didn't you tell us about that too?"

Ginny looked at her children. Albus and Lily nodded, agreeing with James.

"Is it too sad to say, Mum?" asked Lily.

Ginny sighed.

"Something like that," she said. "And emotions are hard to describe…"

Then she had an idea. She crossed the room to the wireless and switched it on.

"Just listen to this."

She waved her wand and that same piece she had listened to all those years ago, a couple of months after the war had finished, started to play.

That same tentative beginning. The same torturous notes. The same strong, hopeful message shining through. She stood as if in a trance; eyes closed, and face to the wall, until the music stopped. She quietly switched the machine off with a flick of her wand and turned to face her children.

James raised his head from staring at the floor; Lily opened her eyes. Tears shone on her son's face and Ginny walked back across the room and traced the tear tracks down Lily's cheek.

But Albus sat, as if in a trance like his mother's still: eyes closed and leaning forward as if to try and get closer to the music.

"Al?" asked Lily, almost whispering.

Albus slowly opened his eyes and gave a sad smile.

"That was amazing, Mum," he said quietly. "I think I understand a bit, now."

"Yeah," said James in a hoarse voice.

"It was…awful," gasped Lily. "So, so sad…"

"But it was hopeful at the end," put in Albus, his voice stronger. "Really hopeful."

The children all nodded solemnly and Ginny felt tears prick in her eyes – of sadness, but also a strange, almost misplaced sense of pride: pride that her children had shared this music and had felt a part of what she had felt, years ago.

**What did you think? Actually, btw, when I was talking about the "many individual stories bound together" I was kind of thinking like that every time you heard it, you would think of someone else's experiences, you would recall different emotions so that each time you heard it, something else would pop into your mind.**

**So, read and review!! To help you out a bit, I've got some stuff to help you…**

**Reviewing Scheme:**

**Please try to comment on the following-**

**What you thought and reasons – what was it that made you think so?**

**How could I improve?**

**Did you think the part about love and Voldemort was too corny?**

**Any songs that make you feel particularly strongly/have inspired you/ remind you of something? Remember, I shared some of mine with you!**

**And finally…**

**Do you think of this as typical to my writing style? (obviously only talk about this if you have read my other stories) Were the sentences too long? Do I repeat myself too often?**

**Actually, one more:**

**6. Is this "Reviewing Scheme" a good idea?**

**Let me know!!**

**Gudbooks xxx.**


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